


Tea & Sugar

by merryofsoul



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, F/F, Meet-Cute, side pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-08 18:39:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryofsoul/pseuds/merryofsoul
Summary: Cora is living a simple life with her brother, her pack, and the bakery they run.Then, a beautiful girl walks in.





	Tea & Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thosesamestarsx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosesamestarsx/gifts).



> Happy, happy birthday to you Ashley! <3 This is the bakery au you asked for a few months ago. I hope you like it, and that you had a good birthday!

Cora is not exactly what people would call the customer service type, but she’s their best option. Boyd barely speaks to the customers, and would rather be hauling sacks of flour in the kitchen or perfecting his cookie recipes. Isaac can be welcoming when he wants to, but he’s the only one who knows how to unstick the espresso machine when it’s being a bitch, so he’s on the espresso bar most days. Erica has the best customer service, but she’s back in school and can only work the odd shift here and there. Derek flat out refuses to work the register, and he only gets away with it because he technically owns the bakery.

So, it’s Cora that the general public gets to see most days, and she has to pretend to be happy about it. 

It’s a normal fall day and everything is the same as it always is. Derek gets up way too early and leaves the apartment before the sun is even up, and Cora stumbles out not long after him to get the bakery ready for the day. Not long after opening, the bakery is decently busy, the tip jar is just about half full, and the wall with the pay it forward muffins and coffees is full of sticky notes. Cora is just getting done telling the fifth person today that no, not only are they _not_ Starbucks, they’re primarily a bakery, so they don’t have pumpkin spice lattes. The door jingles open at the end of her sentence and Cora swears she goes blind for a second.

When she can see again, it’s to see the fall sunshine bouncing off the fiery red hair of the girl who just walked in. Even from behind the counter, and with all of the other bodies in the building, Cora can smell the strawberry shampoo the girl must’ve used this morning. She lets out a little sigh despite herself, and she sees Isaac shoot her an amused look from the espresso machine.

“Hi, welcome to Talia’s. What can I get for you?” Cora asks as the girl approaches the counter after scanning the display case. 

“I’ll have a lemon crumb muffin and Earl Grey tea, please.”

“For here or to go?” Cora watches as the girl scans the seating area. It’s before the lunch rush, so it’s still pretty empty, and Cora can see the bulging bag the girl has slung over her shoulder. 

“For here,” she replies. She pays with cash, and then splits her change between the tip jar and then hands a dollar back to Cora. “I’d also like to pay it forward.”

Cora smiles and takes the money, handing the girl the pad of sticky notes and a pen. Even her handwriting is cute, and Cora has to resists the urge to compliment it as the girl adds her note to the wall.

“I’ll bring your order to you when it’s ready,” Cora says, and gets a smile in return as the girl goes to find a seat. At Isaac’s pointed cough, Cora stops watching the girl unwind her scarf and turns to start set the water boiling.

“Shut up,” she says to Isaac.

Isaac very wisely keeps his lips sealed, but Cora can hear him laughing in her head anyway.

Cora was thrown off her game by a cute girl.

So what?

*

The girl comes every Tuesday and Thursday morning, orders the same tea and some type of pastry, splits her money in the same way, and claims the same table if she can. Cora recognizes her as someone who is set in her routines, and tries not to disturb them in any way. She only brings over the teapot when the girl has finished laying out her books, papers, and laptop, and always places it in the same corner of the table that the girl leaves empty for her. By the looks of the equations and graphs on the papers, Cora thinks the girl is some sort of student, and a ridiculously smart one at that. Just glancing at the papers gives Cora a headache.

Cora learns the girl’s name on a rainy Tuesday morning. There’s a torrential downpour outside, and even though Cora’s umbrella didn’t block all the rain on her walk to to work, she’s still in the best mood she’s been in for weeks. She’s loved rain since she was little. It washes away all the built up scents and leaves behind a fresh slate. Her favorite time to run through the woods back home had always been after a good, hearty rain.

However, she knows that most people don’t agree with her opinion about rain. Isaac comes in trailing a soaking scarf and a pissy attitude and gets mud all over the floor. Cora puts him on mop duty for the day for that move, and every time there’s a rush of people who track in mud and other sludge, Isaac has to whip out the mop and clean up after them.

It’s also evident on the faces of the customers who come in who order their warmest drinks with extra shots of espresso, and huddle near the heating vents as they wait for the rain to lighten up. 

The girl comes in later than her usual time, with no bag in sight and a grumpy expression on her face. It’s busier than when she usually shows up, so they’re taking names for orders rather than just remembering faces. The girls orders her usual tea, but to go this time, and Cora feels a thrill of excitement in her stomach as she gets to ask: “Name?”

“Lydia,” the girl replies, flipping her damp hair over one shoulder and unwittingly wafting more of that strawberry scent Cora’s way.

Cora resists the urge to draw even a small smiley face on the cup, because she’s not _that_ pathetic, and passes the cup to Isaac. She gives Lydia a commiserating look because it does suck to be uncomfortable, and Lydia gives her a small shrug in reply. God, even when she’s miserable, she’s still beautiful.

Cora is so doomed.

*

Cora flops onto the couch, kicks her feet up on the coffee table, and lets out a gusty sigh.

“Feet.” Derek says from the other end of the couch. Cora glares at him out of the corner of her eye but does as she’s told. Derek waits until both of her feet are back on the ground before asking, “What’s with you?”

“I fucking hate finals week.”

“You’re not even a student,” Derek replies. He’s not even looking at her, too busy making notes in his thick recipe book, so he doesn’t see the finger Cora holds up at him.

“Fuck you, I’m taking a class.”

“And I’m very proud of you,” Derek says drily.

“All the students come in stressed out of their minds and they stink the whole place up,” Cora complains, sliding further down in her seat. “Their stress is stressing me out.”

Derek is smirking behind his recipe book, and Cora lets out a little growl.

“What are you smirking about?”

“Oh nothing,” Derek says, shutting his book with a snap. “Just remembering something Erica mentioned to me.”

Cora narrows her eyes. “About _what_?”

“Just that we have a new regular. Lyla I think?”

“Lydia,” Cora corrects before she can help herself. Derek’s smirk turns into a full-blown grin and Cora curses.

“Erica needs to mind her own damn business,” she grumbles. “She worked one weekend! What the fuck?!”

Derek’s laughter follows her all the way down to her room, and while she is slightly annoyed and embarrassed that her crush is so evident, Cora can’t help but laugh too. 

*

The end of finals week means the disappearance of the majority of the annoying customers. They still have their busy times, but Cora is grateful for the comfortable silence that falls after the morning rush is done. Derek and Boyd are busy in the kitchen to get ready for the afternoon crowd, Isaac is mopping and humming, and Cora has time for a quick break. 

She normally takes these breaks out in the alley. There’s a crate to sit on, and if any of them were smokers she’s sure it’d be a more popular spot. Cora just likes the fresh air, and she scrolls through her texts as she breathes in The chatter and the noise from the street reaches her at times, and she’s good at tuning it out at this point, but her attention is caught when one voice rises above the rest.

“I said, _excuse_ me.”

“I was just asking how your day was going.”

“I have somewhere to be.” 

Cora recognizes Lydia’s voice and is halfway down the alley before she really registers that she’s moving. 

“Why are you being such a bitch?”

Cora lets out a little snarl as she finally steps onto the sidewalk. Lydia’s eyes find her immediately, and Cora can tell she’s _pissed_. The man harassing Lydia doesn’t realize they have company, and takes another step forward.

“Is there a problem here?” Cora asks, injecting as much venom into her voice as she can and directing it all toward the guy. He looks over his shoulder then, shaggy hair falling into a boyish face that Cora wants to bury her fist in. 

“No problem,” the guy says, raising his hands in an innocent gesture. “Just talking to my friend.”

“Really?” Cora raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Because it looks like you’re bothering _my_ friend.” She cocks her head so she can see Lydia around the guy’s shoulder. “Is that true?”

“I’m definitely feeling bothered,” Lydia says.

“She’s bothered, _I’m_ bothered, so I think you should just go,” Cora says.

The guy’s face turns from friendly to menacing in the blink of an eye. He opens his mouth as if to say some more bullshit, but Cora lets her eyes flash at him. 

“What the fuck?” The guy stumbles back away from the two of them, and Cora swiftly takes his place, putting herself between Lydia and harm’s way. She feels a light touch to her back and straightens her shoulders even more, scowling at the guy with all of the fierceness she can muster. She’s feeling pretty pissed off right now, on Lydia’s behalf and at the audacity of the boy in front of her.

“Whatever,” the guy spits and stalks off, shoulders hunched. Cora watches him until even her wolf senses lose him in the crowd, and commits his face to memory. There’s absolutely no way that creep is ever coming in their bakery again.

Once she’s sure he’s gone, Cora turns to Lydia, but Lydia isn’t there anymore. She’s halfway down the block. Cora’s stomach drops. 

“Lydia!” She calls down the street, and Lydia either doesn’t hear her, or ignores her. Cora has to fight the urge to chase her down and ask what she did wrong. Instead she forces herself to walk into the bakery and go back to her station behind the counter.

Isaac shoots her a worried look. “Everything okay?”

Cora shrugs. “Fine.” It’s a lie, and she knows Isaac knows it, but she can’t bring herself to care. Maybe Lydia was handling things fine on her own and she’s mad that Cora stepped in. Or maybe she was just more upset than she let on and needed to leave to be alone. Either way, Cora will apologize the next time Lydia comes in. 

*

Lydia doesn’t come in.

*

Christmas comes and goes without much fanfare. Cora remembers it being a bigger deal when she was younger, and when the rest of their family was still alive, but Christmas in her mid-twenties isn’t as magical as Christmas as a kid. About a week before, Derek invites the pack over for dinner. They exchange presents and play games, and just enjoy being in each other’s company. On Christmas it’s just the two of them, and they lay on the couches all day and stuff themselves with pizza, and then have a sundae building contest. 

Cora tries not to notice Lydia’s absence from the bakery. With all of the schools on winter break, Cora tries to convince herself that Lydia has only been gone for so long because she’s back home, or doesn’t have anything to sit down and study. The other option is that Lydia _is_ actually mad about what happened with the douchenozzle outside the bakery, and if that’s the case, Cora wishes she’d been quicker to apologize in the moment. 

She develops an unhealthy reaction to the bell above the door, jerking her head around every time it dings to see if it’s Lydia stepping through the door. Derek takes pity on her eventually, and puts her to work kneading dough in the back and volunteering himself for a rare shift up front. Cora is busy working the dough when she hears the tell-tale sound of shattering glass from the front of the bakery. Boyd pauses with two hot trays of cookies in his hand, and exchanges a long suffering look with Cora. 

Knowing that Isaac and Derek will already have their hands full, Cora leaves the dough where it is and wipes her floury hands on her apron before grabbing a broom and dustpan. She pushes through to the front to see what mess she has to clean up, and freezes as a familiar scent finally reaches her over the normal aroma of bread, chocolate, and coffee.

Lydia is standing off to the side, looking down impatiently at the ground. Cora rounds the display case to see Derek and another guy both crouched on the floor, picking up the glass shards of what used to be a cake tray.

“I am so, so sorry,” the guy is saying. “Jesus, I don’t even know how that happened. I’ll totally pay for it—”

“It’s fine,” Derek says. He notices Cora’s approach and straightens, depositing the larger glass shards he’s holding into the dustpan in her hand. His nostrils are flaring slightly, and for a second Cora thinks he’s really, truly pissed. But then the guy keeps chattering, and Cora sees Derek’s face twitch, and she realizes he’s trying not to _laugh_. 

So astonished that Derek is laughing about anything that doesn’t have to do with teasing her, Cora forgets that Lydia is standing two feet away from her. That is, until she speaks.

“Stiles,” she says, interrupting the never ending stream of words coming from the guys mouth. “Just relax.” She nudges Stiles’s hands toward Cora’s dustpan, and he looks confused for a second before he straightens and deposits his glass shards there as well. Cora smells the blood before she hears Stiles’s hiss of pain, and Derek stiffens next to her.

“Ouch,” Stiles says, drawing his hand close to his face and inspecting the cut. 

“We have a First-Aid kit in the back,” Derek offers. Cora stares at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too focused on Stiles. 

“Oh! No, it’s—” Stiles starts to say, and then looks up at Derek’s face and stutters to a stop. He blinks a few times and then says, “Okay. Thanks.”

Cora watches the two of them walk away with what she is sure is a dumbfounded look on her face, and exchanges an incredulous glance with Isaac. Cora just witnessed her brother show more interest in a stranger in the past five minutes than he has in the entirety of the five years they’ve lived here. 

“Cora.” She turns back at the sounds of her name, and is surprised to see Lydia still standing there. How she could forget in the first place is beyond her, but now all she can smell is the strawberry of Lydia’s shampoo and all she can see is the way the loose strands of her bun frame her face. She’s surprised that Lydia even knows her name, because they don’t actually wear name tags. 

“Do you need help with that?”

Cora hesitates, because it’s not like they should make a habit of having customers help them clean up messes, but she’s reluctant to let Lydia out of her sight again, and she figures this one time won’t hurt.

“If you don’t mind?” Cora hands Lydia the broom and squats down to hold the dustpan steady, not wanting to subject Lydia to that task. They get the rest of the glass cleaned up with a few short strokes of the broom, and soon they’re just standing there again, a dustpan full of broken glass between them that Cora needs to dispose of somewhere safe. 

“Thanks,” Cora says, and then decides to bite the bullet. “Look — I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lydia echoes. “For what? Stiles was the one who broke it.”

“For last month,” Cora says, regretting bringing it up in the first place. “When that guy was bothering you and I got involved. I’m sorry if I overstepped. I tend to get into other people’s business when I shouldn’t.”

“I’m not mad that you stepped in,” Lydia says with a frown. “I was grateful, actually, but I guess I just walked away without saying that, didn’t I?” She shakes her head, but Cora has a feeling it’s at herself. “Sorry. I was — I needed to be alone, but I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“You don’t need to be sorry!” Cora says. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Oh my god,” Isaac says, and his interjection jerks Cora back to the present. She feels acutely aware that they’re still by the display case, and that she’s holding a dustpan full of broken glass and cake crumbs. The morning rush is petering out, but Cora feels like everyone’s eyes are on them.

“I should take care of this,” Cora says, gesturing with the dustpan. She takes the broom back from Lydia, and tries not to notice where their fingers brush. “Do you want to check on your, um, your boyfriend?”

As she says the word she wants to die a little, and if it’s true, then she’ll just die for real.

Lydia rolls her eyes. “ _Not_ my boyfriend, not ever. But yeah, I should make sure his dramatic ass hasn’t passed out from the sight of blood.”

“He faints at the sight of blood?” Cora asks scornfully.

“No, but he gets mad when I tell people that,” Lydia says. She smirks. “So, of course, I tell everyone.”

Secretly relieved that Stiles is _not_ Lydia’s boyfriend, Cora leads Lydia behind the counter and into the back of the bakery, resolutely ignoring Isaac and his waggling eyebrows. 

Boyd is scooping out more balls of cookie dough and salutes them with his scoop as they walk by. Cora pitches the glass and stores the dustpan and broom before pushing her way into the break room. Derek and Stiles both look to the door when Cora and Lydia enter. There’s a blush high on Stiles’s cheeks, and Derek is smiling a little bit, and they are _way_ into each other’s personal space bubbles. Cora’s not really sure _what_ to say, but Lydia takes care of that for her.

“Are you going to make it?” She asks wryly.

Stiles waves a bandaged finger around. “Good as new, thanks to Derek.”

Derek ducks his head, and Cora screams silently, because _what is happening_ , but Lydia just rolls her eyes.

“Alright. Then pay for the dish and then can we finally get the food we came here for?”

“You don’t have to worry about it,” Derek starts to say, but snaps his mouth shut at Lydia’s glare.

“He’s paying for it,” she says, and that’s the end of that. 

Stiles and Lydia go back to the customer section of the bakery eventually, but not before Cora catches Stiles eyeing her up as they make their way back through the kitchen. She gives him a look in return, letting out an aborted snarl. He just shrugs.

“Just seeing if the knight in shining armor is all she’s cracked up to be,” he says. Cora frowns, and then realizes that Lydia must’ve told Stiles about what happened outside the bakery. It takes her another second to realize that _she’s_ the knight in this scenario, and she can’t says she’s unhappy with that comparison.

“Coming, Stiles?” Lydia asks from the doorway. She doesn’t seem to have heard what Stiles has said, but judging by the way Derek’s eyebrows are climbing his forehead, he definitely didn’t miss it.

Stiles bounces out the door past Lydia, and Cora and Derek watch the two of them go to find a table.

“I just want to let you guys know that you’re both pathetic,” Isaac says.

“I’ll fire you,” Derek says mildly.

“No, you won’t,” Isaac, Cora, and Boyd all say simultaneously. Derek huffs and returns to the abandoned bread in the kitchen, and Cora finally lets the door swing shut as she rejoins Isaac behind the counter.

*

Lydia’s schedule changes, and Cora doesn’t even pretend not to notice. Over the course of a few weeks she finds out that Lydia is studying mathematical physics, lives in the city permanently now except when she goes back a few hours north to visit her family, and that Stiles has been her best friend since high school.

Stiles also lives in the city, but Cora has no idea when he’s going to stop by. Lydia is easy to predict, since she loves her routines, but Stiles is not. Sometimes he’s there within half an hour of the bakery opening, grabbing a coffee and muffin to go. Other times he sits with Lydia and pokes at her work or plays on his phone. 

Derek has changed the schedule around a bit and rotates with Cora and Isaac working up front. Boyd always stays in the kitchen, because no one can make the chocolate chip cookies like he does. Erica’s schedule has changed as well, so she’s been in most days of the week to work her magic with the cakes and cupcakes, and as a result, their sales have bumped.

Derek is manning the espresso machine one morning when Lydia and Stiles come in, and Cora has to bite her lip to keep from grinning when she notices the way Derek perks up at the sound of Stiles’s voice.

“It totally counts,” Stiles says as he holds the door open for Lydia. She breezes through, bringing in the scent of the outdoors. Cora can tell it’s going to rain later, which will be a shame for Lydia’s outfit.

“No, I’m not having this argument with you,” Lydia replies.

“Lucky Charms are a breakfast food,” Stiles counters. “It’s a cereal!” He looks to Cora and Derek for backup, and Cora just shakes her head. She’s not getting involved. 

“That’s straight sugar,” Derek says. Stiles looks betrayed for a second, and then his face lights up. Leaving the two of them to their debate, Cora instead focuses on Lydia.

Lydia is straight up ignoring Stiles at this point, instead moving to the display case to inspect what they have to offer today. Derek gets to the bakery at the crack of dawn to bake the various breads they sell, which are always gone by mid-morning. Sometimes he bakes another batch if it’s the weekend and he knows more people will come in for it, but usually after they’ve sold out, that’s it. What lasts all day though are the pastries that Boyd and Erica spend almost the entire day making. They always have a variety of cookies, a few standard pies and cakes, and then whatever recipe Erica wants to try that day.

She tries not to stare too much at Lydia as she makes her decision, but there’s only so many times she can wipe the counter down or fiddle with the notepad by the register. Finally, she cracks.

“Do you need help choosing?”

Lydia looks up at her and smiles. Cora grips the counter hard as her knees start to feel a little weak.

“I’ll have the strawberry cake, please,” Lydia says. “And he’ll take whatever has the most chocolate.”

Cora puts together their order and rings it up. Lydia lingers at the counter rather than going to claim her usual table. She doesn’t have her bag of books today, and Cora realizes it’s not one of her regular days. Chastising herself for being so creepy, she hands Lydia her change and pushes the tray across the counter. She looks down at the espresso bar and sees that Stiles is still trying to make his point to Derek, even going as far as to take Derek’s notepad and draw a little Venn Diagram on it. He’s bent over his task, and doesn’t see the way that Derek is smiling softly at the top of Stiles’s head, but Cora sure does.

“What does he do anyway?” Cora asks.

Lydia scoffs. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She picks up the tray, thanks Cora, and heads for the seating area. Stiles sees her go, but lingers at the counter for a little while longer. Derek doesn’t seem to mind, and Cora has to turn away to hide her smile as she straightens the display case again.

Stiels eventually joins Lydia at their table, and Cora almost smacks her head into the glass when she hears him ask, “So did you ask her out yet?”

“Of course not,” Lydia replies, and Cora wants to die right there on the spot. She’s never wished for normal human hearing more than in this moment. Mortified, she wonders if she can leave the building without seeing any sort of pitying look on Derek’s face. But then Lydia keeps talking.

“Do you know how absolutely creepy and invasive it would be if I were to ask her out on a date at the place where she works?” 

“I didn’t think about it that way,” Stiles replies. 

“You wouldn’t,” Lydia says. “You’re a man.”

Stiles grumbles, but doesn’t disagree. “Well, what if you never see her anywhere else?”

“Then I guess I’ll never ask her out,” Lydia replies. “I’m not going to be that person.”

Cora sits back on her heels and smiles. Feeling brave enough to face Derek now, she looks up to see him smiling softly down at her, his eyebrows doing something ridiculous.

“Shut up,” she mutters. She stands up and goes to the little sink to wash her sticky hands. When she sneaks a peek at Lydia and Stiles’s table, she sees Stiles watching her closely. Before she can look away, Stiles winks.

Derek is going to kill her.

*

“What do you mean, _Stiles knows_?”

“He knew we could hear what they were saying,” Cora explains. “He _winked_ at me!’

“He’s just a spazz!’ Derek replies. “The first time he came in he broke something.”

“This is more than that,” Cora says. She feels a pit growing in her stomach, something she hasn’t felt since she stopped running away from her past. She thinks about how quickly they could leave the city, about dragging the rest of the pack away from their lives, about abandoning the life they’ve made for themselves here. She feels nauseous just thinking about it all.

“He won’t say anything,” Derek says, and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “He’s not that kind of person.”

“How well do we really know them, though?” Cora asks, and she hates to be the one to say that, because she was _this close_ to being even happier than she thought possible. Even Derek was starting to open up to someone who wasn’t in their immediate pack. “Derek. What are we going to do?”

She hasn’t seen her brother look so hunted in a long time. 

“I don’t know.”

*

Stiles comes in on his own the next morning. It’s just after six, and Cora was up half the night, tossing and turning while she worried. She knows that Derek didn’t get much more sleep. He’s in the kitchen, pounding bread dough to submission, and it’s just the two of them at this point.

The bakery doesn’t open until seven, but Cora is counting the drawer and reorganizing the display case, so she sees when Stiles shows up and raps on the door. She scowls at him, and he holds his hands up in a silent plea.

“Please,” he says through the door, knowing full well Cora can hear him. “I want to apologize.”

Cora frowns, but decides to let him in anyway.

“Are you a hunter?” She asks point blank as soon as Stiles is inside. He startles and jerks back.

“Fuck no,” Stiles says, and then repeats himself more adamantly. “No.”

Cora lets her claws retract and gestures for him to keep talking. 

“My best friend is a werewolf,” he says, and that. That’s not what Cora was expecting to hear. She goes to the seating area and flips a chair down to the floor. “Explain,” she says, pointing at it. Stiles takes the seat and starts to talk.

Cora learns all about Scott McCall, and rogue alphas, and the whole shitshow that Beacon Hills continued to be after the Hales vowed never to go back there. At some point during Stiles’s story, Cora hears Derek stop making the bread and come to listen at the kitchen door. 

“How did you find us?” Cora asks. 

“This is the biggest city near Beacon Hills,” Stiles explains. “It’s not that much of a coincidence that we’d all meet each other here.”

“There are a ton of bakeries here, and this just happens to be the one you pick?”

“Lydia found it first,” Stiles reminds her. “I guess like calls to like.”

Cora blinks, and feels like the room is spinning out around her. “Lydia’s not a werewolf. I would’ve smelled it.”

“She’s not,” Stiles agrees. “She’s a banshee.”

Cora stares at Stiles. She’s not really sure what to say, and eventually Stiles breaks the silence by asking, “Do you need to sit down?”

“No,” she snaps. “Just shut up.”

She starts to pace as she thinks. She whirls on Stiles, and it’s a credit to him that he doesn’t even startle at the quick motion. 

“Why didn’t we smell your pack on you when you came in here?” 

“I live here now,” Stiles says with a shrug. “I go home to visit, but not long enough to keep their scent, I guess.”

“And how did you know about us?”

“Cora, you fucking _snarled_ at me the first day we met,” Stiles says with a laugh. “I’ve been around a werewolf since I was sixteen. I know all of the little tells.”

She hears Derek whisper, “Goddamnit,” and feels immediately guilty.

“I’m sorry,” she says. Stiles looks confused, but the apology isn’t for him. “Derek. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Derek says, finally pushing through the kitchen door. “Someone was bound to find out eventually.”

Stiles twists in his chair and watches Derek approach. All throughout Cora’s interrogation Stiles had seemed at ease and sure of himself, but at the sight of Derek, he’s suddenly thrumming with nerves. 

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Stiles says, and then immediately winces. “I mean, like anyone _else_. I told my pack, but they’re also supernatural! And then my dad, but he knows all about it too, but I swear I didn’t tell anyone else after that.”

Derek stares at him for so long that Cora wonders if he’s finally over his crush and is going to strangle Stiles right there, but then Derek sighs.

“No one else,” he says.

Stiles nods. “I promise.”

“Does Lydia know?” Cora asks.

Stiles shakes his head. “I was only sure of it yesterday, and then I saw the look on your face and I knew I needed to fix it before you like, fled town or something.” At the guilty looks on Cora and Derek’s faces, Stiles winces. “Shit. See? I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Derek says. Cora squints at Stiles for a long moment, and then shrugs. 

“I mean, if you fuck this up for us, I’ll hunt you down myself, so.”

Cora leaves Stiles to mull over that and goes to unlock the front door for the day.

“She would,” she hears Derek say behind her, and smiles to herself.

*

Stiles and Lydia continue to come by, and Cora stops glaring at Stiles after about their third visit, though she still throws him the occasional dirty look so he doesn’t think she won’t follow through on her promise. Lydia continues to be amazing and smart and make Cora’s head spin, and it’s worth it to be standing on her feet for hours on end if Lydia comes by for just thirty minutes.

“God, it’s worse than he said.”

Cora blinks and realizes that if Erica has said anything else, she has no idea what it might be. Lydia has at least three pens stuck in her bun today, and Cora is trying to figure out how the whole thing is staying together.

“Who?” Cora asks. 

“Isaac said you were pining, but he didn’t say it was this bad.”

“Shut up,” Cora replies. She’s going to kill Isaac.

Erica grins and leaves her post at the espresso machine to grab a tray and load it with samples.

“What are you doing?” Cora asks through gritted teeth. 

“Just getting to know our regulars.” Erica winks at her and floats off to distribute the samples, ponytail swinging jauntily. Correction: Cora is going to kill both of them.

She has customers to deal with while Erica is making her rounds, and she has to handle the coffee making on her own. She’s not the best at it, and by the end of ten drinks, she’s spilled hot milk on herself and singed some of her fingers on the steam. She runs her fingers under cold water to take away some of the sting, so she doesn’t see the customer at the counter right away.

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Cora hears, and her breath leaves her in a small sigh. This isn’t going to go well.

“Yes?” She turns and pastes on her best customer service smile. The guy is pure hipster — long beard, big glasses, and stupidly big scarf all present. He has this smile on his face that says, ‘Sorry you’re so shitty at your job, I feel bad for you.’ Cora hates him already.

“I asked for a flat white,” the dude says. “This is an Americano.”

Cora tries and fails to remember the difference. “My mistake,” she says. “I’ll make you a new one.”

“Yeah, you will. And you know, you got my friend’s order wrong too.” His friend is standing half behind him, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but involved in this charade. Cora doesn’t feel any sympathy for her though, because she’s not the one getting called out in front of everyone else. Other customers are starting to glance over at the counter now, and Cora can feel the hot prickle of embarrassment all over her body.

Cora takes a breath. And then another one. This is why she hates working the espresso bar. Isaac and Erica never makes these mistakes. 

“I’ll make you both new drinks,” Cora says, but all she really wants to do is leap across the counter and chase this asshole out of her bakery, fangs and claws on display. She turns away and starts to scoop espresso beans again, hoping the guy will just go and sit down and let her make his replacement drinks in peace. It’s worse when they hover.

“Hold on.”

Cora stills, scoop still in the canister of beans. She looks to see Lydia standing at the counter now, hands on her hips.

“Do you realize how extremely rude you’re being?” 

Cora’s mouth drops open in shock as the hipster dude turns to square off against Lydia. 

“Excuse me?” He says again, and Cora _hates_ it when people use polite phrases to pretend they aren’t being aggressive. Judging by the way her lips thin, Lydia hates it too.

“She made a mistake, it happens,” Lydia says. “But you don’t have to treat her like that. It’s uncalled for.”

“Yeah, it’s also none of your business,” the guy replies. He turns to Cora again. “I want to speak to your manager.”

Lydia’s eyes widen, and she looks at Cora apologetically. Cora sets down the coffee and shrugs. 

“Okay,” Cora agrees. Erica has come to stand beside Lydia now, empty tray propped on her hip and looking extremely unamused. She meets Cora’s gaze and winks.

Cora goes to the back and gets Derek. Already annoyed at being interrupted, he listens to the customer’s complaint with his arms folded, his eyebrows drawn together in a deep vee. The customer complains like he’s performing, and he’s definitely basking in all of the attention he’s getting from the other customers in the bakery. He doesn’t seem to realize that they’re all staring at him with disdain. His friend looks like she wants to die, and Cora thinks it’s what she deserves for staying friends with such an asshole.

“You done?” Derek asks, cutting the guy off mid-sentence. He looks ruffled for a second, and then nods.

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“Good.” Derek nods his head toward the door. “I think you should leave now.”

“What?” The guy sputters. “This is shitty customer service, you know that right?”

“Nah,” Erica cuts in. “You’re just a shitty customer.”

“I’m never coming back here again,” the guy threatens.

Derek shrugs. “Okay.”

The guy looks around furiously for a second before deciding to cut his losses and head for the door. His friend trails after him, looking appropriately ashamed of herself. 

“You okay?” Derek asks Cora when the guy is finally gone. He looks like he wants to go after him, and while Cora would love nothing more, she nods.

“I’m fine,” she says with a shrug. “But I think I’d like to take my break now.”

Derek nods, and Cora ditches her apron before slipping into the kitchen and out into the back alley. Most days she doesn’t care that she has barely four college classes under her belt. She’s usually content to work with her brother and their pack and occasionally bake stuff. But it’s days like today that she wishes she had some sort of degree or job that would mean she never had to deal with a customer again.

The back door opens not long after she’s taken a seat, and she knows it’s Lydia before she looks up at her.

“Thank you,” Cora says as Lydia comes into view.

“Sorry for making it worse,” Lydia says. She has her arms crossed tight across her body, like Cora is going to be mad at her for sticking up for her. “I didn’t think he’d do that.”

Cora waves away the apology. “It’s okay. Even if my manager wasn’t my brother, I think they’d have been on my side.”

Lydia’s face is still twisted unhappily. Cora hates it.

“Seriously, I’m not mad,” Cora says. “Most people would’ve just sat there.”

“It’s an unacceptable way to treat someone,” Lydia says. “I would’ve done it for anyone, but especially for you.”

Cora blinks, trying to process _especially you_ , when Lydia’s watch dings. She frowns as she taps it and checks the notification.

“I have a meeting with my adviser,” she says. “I’ll see you later?”

Cora nods, wishing that later meant hanging out, or an actual date, rather than just the next time Lydia comes into the bakery.

Lydia hesitates like she’s going to say something else, but she just smiles again before re-entering the kitchen.

Cora sits outside for a little while longer and thinks about the thrill of satisfaction she got when Lydia stepped in to defend her.

*

Erica basks in telling the rest of the pack what went down, highlighting the fact that Lydia got involved and how it means she must be in love with Cora. Pack game night is going the same way it usually does, which means the Monopoly board is sitting abandoned on the coffee table while they all get distracted by literally anything else.

“Okay, _okay_ ,” Cora says as she stomps into the kitchen for a snack. “ _Relax_. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“She does want to ask you out though,” Derek reminds her. Erica gasps. 

“What? How do you know that?” Erica cries. 

“I heard her say it.” Cora cannot believe her bitch of a brother.

“ _What?!_ ”

“Someone ate the last of the mint chocolate chip,” Cora says as she comes back into the living room, completely ignoring the conversation that Erica is still trying to make happen. Boyd shoots her a guilty look, but Cora isn’t even mad. She’s grateful for a reason to leave the apartment.

“I’m going to get some more. Any flavor requests?” She shoves her shoes on as everyone calls out flavors, and is out of the apartment before they realize how easily they were distracted from their topic. She knows she’ll have to deal with the ribbing eventually, as good-natured as it is, but she needs a little space to breathe. She doesn’t want them all getting her hopes up.

It’s a quick walk to the corner store, and even quicker to find all of the appropriate cartons, but Cora lingers in the store, basket tucked in the crook of her arm. She’s trying to decide if she wants to get toppings for impromptu sundaes when she hears familiar voices in the next aisle. 

“I’m buying them,” Stiles says.

“You know those give you heartburn,” Lydia replies. “But whatever.”

For a second Cora considers bolting, but stops herself when she thinks about how ridiculous that would be. She looks down at herself and dispairs. She’s in her usual combination of athletic clothes that she likes to lounge around in, and she knows at least a quarter of her ponytail is falling in wisps around her face. If she had known tonight was the first time she’d see Lydia outside of the bakery, she would’ve made sure she looked a little more presentable.

She’s still staring hard at the chocolate syrup when Stiles rounds the corner, and she hears the squeak of Stiles’s sneakers against the linoleum as he comes to a stop. 

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?” Lydia asks as she almost collides with Stiles’s back. Cora looks over at the same time Lydia peeks around Stiles, and gives an awkward little wave. She sees Stiles bite back a laugh, and she swears one day she is going to punch him straight in the face.

“What are you guys up to?” Cora asks nonchalantly, trying not to think about how Lydia didn’t want to ask her out on a date while she was working, and here she is, not working and desperately wishing for Lydia to do that very thing.

“Getting some snacks,” Stiles says. “We’re going to watch Star Wars.”

“No, we’re not,” Lydia replies. She eyes Cora curiously. “I didn’t realize you lived around here too.”

_Like calls to like_ , Cora thinks. She nods “Yeah, just down the block.” Stiles is doing something with his face that Cora is desperately trying to ignore, but she gives in finally and looks at him.

_Ask her, ask her, ask her,_ Stiles is mouthing. Cora blinks in surprise before deciding, _fuck it_.

“Do you guys want to come over? We’re having a game night.”

“That sounds great!” Stiles says immediately, only calming down when Lydia catches him by the elbow.

“We wouldn’t want to bother you,” Lydia says, but Cora can hear the way her heart speeds up. 

“You wouldn’t be,” Cora insists. “It’s always just the five of us. They’d love to have you there too.”

Lydia finally agrees, and Stiles holds out a fist for Cora to bump behind her back when they’re all paying. Cora stares at it for a beat before giving, and Stiles’s uncontained joy makes her smile despite how ridiculous he is.

The walk to the apartment is quick, and any awkward silence is filled with Stiles’s chatter. Lydia takes Cora’s bag from her when she goes to unlock the door, and when their fingers brush against each other, Cora swears she feels sparks.

She realizes she should’ve texted to let the rest of the pack know that she was bringing two visitors, but she didn’t think Erica and Isaac would be having a full-shift wrestling match in the middle of the living room floor when she opened the door. 

“Oh, shit,” Cora says, and they all freeze. 

“So you’re all werewolves?” Lydia asks.

Cora turns to her, and then looks to Stiles who holds his hands up.

“I didn’t say a word,” he says.

“Please,” Lydia says. “I figured it out. I’ve also been around werewolves since I was sixteen. Also,” she points at Cora. “You flashed your eyes at that guy outside the bakery. You thought I didn’t see.”

“You are literally the worst secret keeper,” Derek says, sound exasperated and amused at the same time. Cora blushes. 

“They know?” Erica asks, untangling herself from Isaac on the floor and shifting back. Isaac stays shifted, and Cora knows it’s a defense mechanism for when he’s feeling particularly unsettled. 

“They’re part of a pack back in Beacon Hills,” Derek explains. The other betas relax at that, and now they look curious rather than suspicious.

“You’re werewolves too?” Boyd asks.

“I’m still one hundred percent squishy human,” Stiles says. He gestures to Lydia. “This one’s a banshee.”

“I have a name,” Lydia says. “I’m Lydia.”

“We know,” Isaac says with a smirk. Cora wants to die.

“You guys wanna play Monopoly?” Boyd asks. That shatters the awkwardness, and soon they’re all trying to find a space around the Monopoly board. 

Cora escapes to the kitchen to put away the ice cream before it melts. She’s not surprised to see Lydia standing there when she turns back around.

“Can I ask you something?” Lydia asks. 

“Yeah,” Cora replies. She’s expecting Lydia to ask any number of questions, mainly about why Stiles knew about them being werewolves before she did, but she doesn’t ask anything like that.

“Do you want to go to dinner with me?”

Cora blinks, thinking she’s hearing things even though she’s been wishing for this since practically the moment Lydia walked into the bakery.

“Like a date?” Cora asks, because she’s awkward as hell, but she also wants to make sure.

“Yes,” Lydia replies simply. 

“Then yes,” Cora replies. “Absolutely.”

“Oh thank god,” Stiles says from the doorway. Cora doesn’t even have time to snap at him to go away before Derek appears behind him and yanks him back toward the living room. Stiles’s yelp echoes back to them and Cora shakes her head in disbelief that her brother seems to be totally into that spazzy kid.

“Somewhere private, preferably,” Lydia says, drawing Cora’s attention back to her. She’s closer than she was a second ago, and it’s not often that people are able to sneak up on Cora. Lydia smiles up at her, and Cora has never wanted to kiss her more.

“I have another question,” Lydia says, voice low.

“Ask it,” Cora replies, her voice lowering to match Lydia’s of its own accord.

“Are you a ‘kiss after x number of dates’ kind of girl, or—”

Cora answers that question by leaning down and pressing her mouth to Lydia’s — first in a quick kiss, and then when Lydia smiles against her lips, she presses in again more firmly. Lydia’s lips are sticky with lipgloss and she tastes like mint and Cora could spend the next eternity breathing in the scent of her.

“I guess that answers that question,” Lydia says a little breathlessly when Cora finally backs off. 

“You wanna go get that dinner now?” Cora asks, and Lydia is nodding before she even finishes the question. Cora grins. She knows they’ll have to get past their friends and probably get stuck answering a bunch of embarrassing questions, but if it means finally getting to have a date with Lydia she’ll do it. But for now, what she wants to do is hide her face in Lydia’s neck and breathe her in, and Lydia lets her.

Everything else can wait.


End file.
